Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Madagascar and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Camberwell Now to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Morten Harket. All the underground hits.
All The Raincoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Visage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Easy Going,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Derrick May,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Avey Tare,
The Zeros,
Yazoo,
D'Angelo,
X-101,
Simply Red,
DJ Sneak,
John Holt,
Banda Bassotti,
Camouflage,
John Cale,
The Angels of Light,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Gladiators,
The Doors,
Pere Ubu,
Vainqueur,
Tom Boy,
Swans,
Amon Düül II,
The Beau Brummels,
John Coltrane,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Das Ding,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Newcleus,
Eurythmics,
Inner City,
Jeff Lynne,
Anthony Braxton,
Bill Wells,
The Skatalites,
Mandrill,
Boredoms,
David Bowie,
The Dave Clark Five,
Spandau Ballet,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Parry Music,
Todd Rundgren,
World's Most,
ABBA,
Vladislav Delay,
Marc Almond,
Pantytec,
Harpers Bizarre,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Lebanon Hanover,
Pulsallama,
The Evens,
Connie Case,
Amon Düül,
The Detroit Cobras,
June Days,
Nils Olav,
The Neon Judgement,
Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.